Harry Potter and the Rise to Darkness
by phantomtron
Summary: It's been 19 years since Lord Voldemort was defeated. The world is safer and the wizarding community lives in peace. But an alliance is slowly rising, bringing back fear and discord. There is a rumor that the Dark Lord will return. It all begins with a letter, delivered by an old Phoenix directly to the desk of Harry Potter. What lies in store for the wizarding world?
1. Chapter 1

The Flaming Letter

Nineteen years. Nineteen years had passed since Harry Potter had stood across from the darkest wizard the world had ever known, Lord Voldemort, and ended his reign of terror on the wizarding world. Harry Potter was now a grown man, 36-years-old to be precise. His handsome features had drooped slightly, but you could still see the boy within. Harry Potter lay upon his bed, now awakening from his night's sleep. He stared up at the ceiling. It was early morning he could tell, by the pale orange light dancing on the rafters. He looked to his left, but there was no silhouette beside him as usual. He wondered where his wife could possibly be.

Then he started. Today was the day. How could he have forgotten? He jumped out of bed, in naught but his underwear, and rushed to pull on some jeans. He zipped them up, threw on a tee shirt, then quickly hurried downstairs. He stepped into the kitchen and the buzz of his family subsided.

"About time you got up," said Ginny, looking up from the stove, allowing her wand to flip the eggs on her account. Harry stepped over to her and kissed her. The kids at the table sniggered slightly.

"Dad, we're trying to eat," whispered one of the boys at the table. Harry withdrew from the kiss and gave the kids a stern look, then cracked into a smile.

"We'll just see if you change your mind when you fancy a girl James Sirius," said Harry. He looked at the clock on the far wall and clapped his hands together. "Well we better get a move on then, or you'll miss the train. Wouldn't want that to happen now would you?"

The kids all sprang from their seats and hurried out of the kitchen. Harry could hear their heavy footsteps on the stairs. He looked back at Ginny, who looked slightly saddened.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing really. It's just the boys will be leaving home for the first time. I'm going to miss them terribly," she said as she turned back to the eggs and placed them on a plate for Harry. Harry sat down and looked up at Ginny.

"Well, Lily will still be home. So, you won't be so alone. Either way, it's all part of life. They need their education, and they'll be home for the holidays soon enough. Don't worry they'll be fine."

Harry finished his breakfast and headed into the hall. Soon the stairway was cluttered with trunks among other things. Harry tripped on the last step and fell a couple of feet down the stairwell.

"James! Get out here and help me get these to the car," he yelled as he nursed his ankle, which he had slammed into a stack of books.

"Coming! Just give me a minute!"

"Now, please."

Harry bounced on his good ankle all the way outside to the car and began packing the trunk with all of the school things. He thought back to his first day going to Hogwarts. Where he'd met his best friend Ron and his wife Ginny for a few seconds before he ran through the stone barrier onto Platform 9 ¾.

How excited he'd been then, and now his children were going to have the same experience. How fast time had gone. At least they won't have to worry about Lord Voldemort, he thought.

How little he had though of Riddle, after all these years still surprised Harry, but perhaps it was best that he kept it contained. His hand automatically shot up to his scar. It had not pained him since that last confrontation, yet he still looked at it in the mirror occasionally and remembered all the pain it had once brought him.

He slammed the trunk and headed inside. It was time to go, and he had to usher his family into the car so they could get to King's Cross on time. After everyone was accommodated in the tiny car, Harry took off ready to set his children free at Hogwarts, where they would roam the halls he once had roamed. Learn the things he already knew.

The kids talked and looked through books on the way to King's Cross. Harry looked in the mirror and saw they were looking through a newer version of, Hogwarts: A History. It had been a gift from Hermione. Suddenly James looked up from the book, his finger pressed against a painting of Salazar Slytherin.

"Dad, what if Albus is put into Slytherin? What will we do?" said James from the backseat.

"I will NOT be put in Slytherin… Will I dad?" Albus wailed, looking longingly for an acceptable answer. Harry opened his mouth to speak, but James flared up.

"If you get put into Slytherin, you'll have to go live somewhere else. We don't want a snake in the house," James said tauntingly. Albus looked beside himself, and frowned.

"That's enough. James leave your brother alone," said Ginny sternly.

"But what if he's in Slytherin. Seriously, we can't have that!"

"I will NOT be in Slytherin!" Albus reared up and crossed his arms, then turned from his brother.

"Enough I said. One more peep out of you, James, and there'll be no packages from home."

Harry looked at his family through the mirror. It was going to be a long, tedious ride to King's Cross, yet he didn't want it to be over too quickly.

INSERT EPILOGUE HERE LOL

Harry turned to Ginny, Ron and Hermione and looked at them all. It had been so long since they had all stood on this platform together. Harry looked at Ginny and hugged her to his side.

"Don't worry mate. They'll fare well. Remember what Hagrid said. No place safer than Hogwarts," said Ron and he proceeded to smile.

"Yeah. Tell that to the east wing. It's still being rebuilt. Whatever spell hit it was powerful enough to keep it from staying together all this time." There was a moment of silence. Harry turned on the platform and called out to Lily, who was still looking after the departed engine. Lily turned and Harry saw tears in her eyes. He held out his spare arm and beckoned her to him. She thrust herself upon his thigh and hugged him.

"I wish I could go with them. I wish I was older," she cried, tears now streaming down her face. Harry let go of Ginny and picked Lily up. He looked into her eyes. Green. Just like his. Just like his mother, whom Lily had been named after. Harry smiled at her.

"You will be old enough next year. Believe me, you'll get your letter and then you'll be off to Hogwarts too. Look at Hugo, he's not upset."

Hugo looked up at Lily and smiled. At last she calmed down. Harry put her down and let her go off to play with Hugo. He turned to Ginny.

"You'll be heading home I trust?"

"Yes. I'll take her home, and put her to bed. She need to sleep. She was up all night talking with her brothers. I heard them, while you were dead asleep."

Ron looked at them both, "Does he still talk in his sleep? He never shut up while we were at school."

Harry laughed.

"At least I didn't wake up screaming about spiders."

Ron's smile wavered, and he pulled Harry into a headlock.

Hermione and Ginny both looked at each other casually, ignoring the scene the two were causing.

"Will they ever grow up?" Hermione asked Ginny across the two men. Ginny simply shook her head. Ron finally let go of Harry, and the two split apart laughing like old friends should. At last the laughing subsided and the men each turned to their wives and kissed them good-bye.

"Well, off to work. Busy men we are," Ron said to Hermione. She looked at him and rolled her eyes.

"Ronald…"

Ron smiled. He turned to Harry and waved to Ginny. Harry gave one last hug to Lily and Ginny in turn, then disapparated along with Ron.

Ginny and Hermione both turned and headed back toward the stone barrier, ready to head home.

Harry and Ron both apparated outside a grubby looking phone booth. Harry opened the door and climbed inside, Ron right after him.

"Why do you like using these entrances, Harry? We could just use the Floo Network."

"Well, it's a hell of a lot better than the toilets, don't you think? Plus, where's the fun in just apparating to work? Live a little Ron," Harry said and smiled. He lifted the receiver, still disconnected from the main cell, and dialed 62442. Soon, the change return clanged, dropped name badges into the pot, then the lift began to go down into the ground.

Eventually the lift came to a stop and liberated them from the constrained space.

"Welcome to the Ministry of Magic," a woman's voice said casually.

"Yeah, we know. The first floor this, second floor that," Ron said as he straightened his robes. Harry was still in his muggle clothing, but he'd change once he got upstairs to his office.

The Ministry had changed in the last 19 years. The gates were gone, and security was a lot less obvious. The fountain of magical brotherhood had returned, with a few changes Harry had seen to himself. The house elf statue now sported socks on its hands.

"Good morning, Mr. Potter," a stout wizard in dark blue robes said enthusiastically as Harry walked by.

"Good morning, Greenwood. How's the family?"

" Good as ever, sir. By the by, Dennis Creevey's been looking for yeh. Says you have something in your office. Told me to tell yeh when I seen yeh."

"Thanks Greenwood." Harry walked along with Ron. He looked at Ron, and he knew he was thinking the same thing. What could possibly be in his office, that Dennis Creevey, now head of security at the ministry, thought important to alert him about? Ron took to the left and Harry continued to the lift. As he walked, he looked up to the new wall of important Ministry workers, and smiled to see Arthur Weasley's face, now lined with age, hair slightly greyer among the others.

He squeezed into the lift, packed as usual with all the notes floating overhead. Although nineteen years had passed and he was more accepted among the wizarding community, people still stared. At him. At his scar. As if wondering, why he was still among them. Why he had survived. He never truly felt comfortable in public.

Finally the lift stopped on his floor and he exited slowly, through the sea of wizards. One on his left was holding a box that seemed to be growling. He quickly veered to the right to avoid whatever may be in the box. After what seemed like ages he made it to his office. He opened the door, stepped inside, slammed the door behind him, and stopped dead. Could it be? Was he looking at what he thought was there? Had he gone mad?

"Fawkes," he said bewildered. The great scarlet Phoenix perched upon his desk, and gave his saddening cry. Harry stepped forward. He wondered if this was perhaps another Phoenix, and he was just being stupid. How could this possibly be the same Phoenix that had belonged to Albus Dumbledore? It couldn't be.

Then the Phoenix turned it's head to look at him with one great, glassy eye. Suddenly a great burst of flame erupted above the Phoenix, then subsided as a flaming letter fluttered to the floor. Against all his instincts, Harry picked up the letter.

His assumptions were now confirmed. The letter was addressed to him, but even stranger was who it was from. The letter was undoubtedly from, Albus Dumbledore.


	2. Chapter 2

A New Order

The large manor lay quiet and still in the dark night. Its majestic brick walls were covered in green ivy. The lawn flourished with flowers. The grass was as green as it could possibly be, freshly cut and watered. A step-stone path led down the sloping lawn to the wrought-iron gates.

The window panes were painted white, the glass shining in the moonlight. It was no longer the derelict, rundown home it had been all those years ago. However, it still carried the rumors. No matter how many times it was remodeled, it was still the Riddle house; infamous for the murder of its three inhabitants.

The rumors had flared up more than 20 years before when the house keeper, Frank Bryce, had been found dead moldering in the sitting room upstairs, looking as if an animal had attempted to eat the remains. The house had been condemned, the perimeter cordoned off. But as time went by the people forgot Frank Bryce and the Riddles more and more and eventually the house was sold to a wealthy family of four.

The inside of the manor shined brightly as the floors had just been cleaned and waxed. The walls were freshly painted and the living room had been laid with a new maroon colored carpet. The dining room walls were covered in modern art. A great table with eight places was the masterpiece of the room. Made of wood and giving a beautiful reflection of the glass chandelier that hung above it. Both heads of the table were occupied, as well as three of the other seats.

At the ends of the tables sat a woman and a man, both seemingly in their early forties. They were dressed elegantly and sat still apparently listening to the man in black, who sat next to a young boy, and was jubilantly talking. Across from the boy sat a young girl who was also dressed as elegantly as the other three, who presumably were her parents and sibling. The man in black continued to talk, laughing loudly as he finished his story.

The others at the table seemed uninterested in what he had to say.

"Forgive me. I guess my sense of humor is a bit off colour," said the man in black spitefully. He continued to eat from his plate as the others watched him, unmoving. Another man entered the room suddenly, looking on the verge of collapse.

"We've found him," he panted. "Came as quickly as I could. He's upstairs, sir. We have him tied up."

The man in black looked up slowly, his spoon halfway to his mouth. He stared dismally at the other man and did not move. He spun his spoon in his hand, turned to the boy and sniggered.

"The servants have no manners now do they," he said joyfully. The boy didn't even look at him, but kept in place. "That's why they must be taught to behave themselves," finished the man. He picked up a wand from beside his plate and pointed it directly at the other man.

"Crucio," he said calmly as the other man fell to the floor, screaming in agony. The man in black stood, his wand still firmly pointed at the other. Slowly he walked around the table, wand never wavering, and stopped beside the man at the head of the table.

"Dinner was splendid, but it's time for me to leave you. My compliments to your kitchen staff," he said and clapped the man on the back.

The man fell forward, face first into the plate before him. The weeks old food splattered onto the table. The man in black laughed as he moved toward the writhing figure in the doorframe. He lifted his wand and the other man stopped screaming.

"Never interrupt me again, specifically when I am entertaining."

"Yes, sir. I beg for your forgiveness."

"Very well. You are forgiven, but do not forget your manners again, or the consequences will be far greater," said the man, now frowning slightly.

He stepped from the dining room gracefully, almost floating away. He made his way to the grand staircase and began to ascend the stairs. Once he had reached the second floor landing, he turned to the only open door in the hallway.

He reached the room, stepped inside and smiled at the scene that awaited him. The fireplace was crackling, the walls illuminated a bright orange. There were dark figures along the walls of the room. In the middle there was a man, doubled over, tied up and perfectly still. Some of the figures in the room had their wands drawn, all pointed at the messy man before them.

The man in black stepped closer to the huddled silhouette, his fingers now touching one another, as he clicked his tongue.

"You were a hard one to find, but at last here you are. After a long deal of searching, I was afraid the rumors were false. Yet I felt, perhaps, that you had not been killed in battle all those years ago. Had it been true, my plan would not have been able to move forward," he said as he rounded around the figure, coming to stop directly in front of the shaggy man.

The man gave a grunting laugh.

"What makes you think it will," he grunted deeply.

The man in black looked down upon the shaggy mess before him and frowned deeply. He knelt down in front of the messy figure and pulled its face up from the shadows.

"Don't be quite so noble. You are going to tell me everything I need to know, without hesitation. Isn't that right, Greyback?"

The werewolf looked directly into the mans face and growled. He looked away almost as quickly as the other man stood up again. Greyback looked around the room.

"So, what are you trying to accomplish? He's gone. He won't be coming back. Or are you trying to surpass him," Greyback sneered. The other man raised his right hand and brought it down with all his might against the werewolf's cheek.

"I will not have a filthy animal speak to me like that," he bellowed, then stuck Greyback again. The werewolf looked up at him and laughed.

"There's nothin' you can do to me."

The other man laughed and spun around to face the large chair behind him. He sat down and surveyed the rugged werewolf. The look on his face showed anxiety, and Greyback was no longer looking at him.

"The world is safer now, the prophet says. Not as dangerous as it once was. However, the truth is, Fenrir-" the wolf looked up at the sound of his name, "-it's just better organized. We lot have gone underground. The original death eaters are gone to Azkaban or have died and taken secrets to the grave. Lucius Malfoy is one of the few who remain accessible. I need him… His influence, to execute my plan."

The man looked up at the ceiling and sighed.

"I am not a secret keeper. I can't reveal his manor's location to you, and even if I did, you wouldn't be able to find it."

The other man sprung up suddenly.

"Don't you see? He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named himself was secret keeper all those years ago. He trusted no one else, except his death eaters and a few others. You were one of them Greyback. I've done my research. If a secret keeper dies, the magic moves on to those who were told. You are now a secret keeper yourself."

Greyback howled with laughter. The other man looked affronted as Greyback continued to laugh. Eventually the laughter died and Greyback looked into the other's eyes.

"What makes you think they haven't got a new secret keeper? That would make my knowledge worthless."

The other man smiled his yellow smile.

"I'm willing to bet they never got one. Lucius Malfoy was always gullible, according to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named."

Greyback frowned.

"How do you know? You never met him."

The other man's smile dropped. He straightened up in his seat. He raised his left arm and beckoned one of the figures to him. A tall cloaked man carrying a box stepped forward.

"Never you mind about that my mangy friend. Now, it's your choice. We can do this the easy way, or we can do it the other easy way," he said as the cloaked figure opened the box, revealing five glass vials set atop the velvet lining inside. "Veritaserum. It was hard to make, but I'm glad I had it made. Tell me of your own accord, or I will MAKE you tell me."

The werewolf looked from the man to the box. Then slowly dropped his head, defeated. The other man clapped his hands together,

"Splendid. Good choice my dear, Fenrir. However, what a waste of Veritaserum this would be. Make him drink all of it," he added to the cloaked man.

Sputtering and mouth foaming, Fenrir fought back, but in vain. Fenrir looked up as the cloaked man force fed him all five vials of the serum. Soon the serum began to work, and Greyback found himself revealing all the secrets he had kept with him all those years.

When Greyback had finally stopped talking, the man in black stood and flashed a triumphant smile. He opened his arms, warm and welcoming and turned to the hooded figures around him.

"My brothers! The werewolf has given us what we need to move forward. With the path to Malfoy Manor unbarred, the Dark Lord's return is close at hand," he proclaimed and the room was filled with chanting voices. He laughed shrilly as he turned his attention back to the broken man before him. He grabbed Greyback by the beard and raised his gaze to his.

"You have proven to be most useful my dirty friend. You are of no longer use to us," he spat into Greyback's face. " But what to do with you?"

The dark figures around the room began to chant.

"Death…Death…Death…"

The man smiled.

"I cannot deny the requests of my men. At least you die with meaning," the man said. He raised his wand as the other men chanted. Their voices rose, louder and stronger. Greyback stared directly into the wand pointed at his face and snarled. The room flashed green and Greyback's body crumpled to the floor limp, lifeless. Eyes open and staring, Greyback looked pitiful in the glowing light of the fire. A rumble of cheers erupted around the room.

"Tonight, we begin our journey," the man in black said gently. "We must leave this place, for soon the muggles will get suspicious of the disappearance of the house's new inhabitants."

He stepped from the room and the others followed close, Greyback's body was left behind. They all congregated in the main hall. The messenger was still in the doorway to the dining room.

"Master, what shall we do with the muggles," he asked, rubbing his hands together.

"Leave them. It won't be the first time this house has seen an entire murdered at dinner. It will stir panic in the village. Precisely what we are intent on doing."

The other man swallowed.

"And the wolf?"

"Let him rot upstairs. They'll blame him for the murders no doubt. We will leave no trace of our presence," the man in black said. He looked onward to his followers. "We now leave. You heard the beast. You have your location. Do not disappoint me."

With that he spun on his heel and disapparated. The others begun to do the very same. The messenger lunged forward and took hold of one of the others just in time to disapparate. The house was left eerily silent. Soon the villagers would find the four dead at the table, instilling fear and reviving the rumors of the Riddle House. The rugged man upstairs would also be found, leaving questions asked, but without answers.


	3. Chapter 3

The Perfect Plan

The night was still and quiet. The branches of the trees creaked as they swayed with the wind. A beautiful gravel pathway leading to a great wrought-iron gate seemed to move as the shadows of the trees danced upon it. The quiet night was interrupted by the sudden appearance of a man in a black cloak. He strode forward on the path toward the gate. Then as quickly as he had appeared more and more people in dark robes appeared behind him.

They all pressed forward together, now a black mass against the pale grey path beneath them. The man who led the pack moved gracefully, never pausing, until he reached the gate at last. He turned on the spot to face the approaching group of wizards and waited until at last there was no movement. He peered at them from beneath his hood, his face obscured by shadow, then grinned as he looked around at them all.

"My friends, tonight we begin our ascension to greatness. Behind these gates is Malfoy Manor, no doubt security is great, but we must succeed tonight if our plan is to reach its full potential," he said gravely and looked from face to face.

None of the others spoke nor moved. The wind howled as a gust rose up, making their cloaks billow in the pale moonlight. He raised his wand into the night, the others followed his example.

"We enter now the devil's den. Await my signal my friends, then come to my side," he said. The others bowed one by one. The leader turned to the great black gate and once again disapparated. Seconds later he reappeared on the other side of the gate. A shrill alarm began to sound. The others disappeared, leaving the pathway clear once more. The other man tapped himself with his wand.

Almost immediately he had disappeared from view. Seconds later a stout wizard came bouncing down the lawn, his wand raised, illuminating the floor beneath him. He strode almost to the gate and spun around both ways.

"Must have been one of those damn peacocks again. If I've told Mr. Malfoy once, I've told him a MILLION times. Put them in a pen. But will he listen," he said angrily. "Second time this week it's been."

He trudged back up the slope still muttering under his breath, but stopped dead only a few steps later.

"Not a very good watchman, are you," a voice asked.

The stout wizard's eyes were open wide. He seemed to be incapable of speech. He slowly raised his wand hand.

"I wouldn't if I were you. I have a wand pressed to your neck, what precisely do you think you'll gain," the voice said happily.

The stout wizard looked around the lawn. He seemed to be contemplating an escape, but how? He licked his lips and laughed nervously.

"Please. I have a family."

There was silence. The stout wizard stood in his place awaiting a response. Nothing came and soon he began to whimper.

"Very well," said the voice.

The security wizard sighed with relief and rubbed the back of his neck where the wand had been placed. He spun around, wand raised. He gasped in surprise to find no one there. His face showed confusion. His eyes scanned the lawn, but to no avail. No one was present. Suddenly a bush rustled on his right and he raised his wand, ready for a fight.

"STUPEFY," he yelled as a red spell shot from his wand and entered the bush. He heard something fall. He looked triumphant. He'd hit the perpetrator. He'd take him into custody and Mr. Malfoy would reward him with a bag of galleons. He'd take his family away on holiday.

There was a spring to his step as he walked around the man-sized hedge to see who he had hit. His face fell as he realized what he had stunned. There on the ground was a pure white peacock, apparently unconscious.

The last thing he heard was a man's voice.

"Avada Kedavra."

The lawn flashed a bright green for a fraction of a second, followed by the sound of a falling body. The guard lay awkwardly on the moonlit ground, just a few inches from the mangled peacock. The other man reappeared just feet away from the grisly scene. He smiled from beneath his hood, then disapparated into Malfoy Manor. He appeared inside a study, and all too perfectly, just feet away from Lucius Malfoy.

Lucius Malfoy spun in his seat at the sound the other had made. Lucius raised his wand, but not quickly enough to disarm his opponent. The other already had his wand aloft.

"Getting old, are we, Lucius?" the man sneered. "Put it down."

Malfoy obliged, slowly, and placed the wand at his feet. The man removed his hood and looked frantically about the room.

"So we ARE alone. Security is extremely shy these days isn't it? I anticipated a challenge."

The man removed his cloak, and threw it across the room into a dark corner. As he moved forward, Malfoy gasped.

"No. It can't be. You look-"

"Like HIM? Yes, it is part of the transformation. He's getting stronger… It's only a matter of time."

Lucius looked at him incredulously. The same face. How could it be possible? It had been almost twenty years.

"Oh, Lucius. Quiet your mind. You are flooding mine with questions I will answer in time."

It seemed this man was skilled in Legilimency; as He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named had once been.

"Who are you," Lucius asked quietly.

The other man stood in the dim light, looking directly at Lucius. He moved closed, into the light. His features were so reminiscent of the Dark Lord.

"As I said, all these questions you have will be answered. In time."

At that moment there was a creak in the hall, and the distant sound of falling steps. The ghostly man looked toward the door, a grim smile spreading upon his visage. Lucius looked as if he were to about to shout. The man put one finger to his lips, as he raised his wand. Lucius was immediately gagged, and roped tied him to his seat. The man shook his head, as he clicked his tongue.

"Lucius, dear," a voice rang in the hall.

The other man laughed silently. The handle jiggled slightly. The owner of the voice was just outside the room. The door opened slightly and Narcissa Malfoy stepped into the room, a goblet of amber liquid in her hand. Her hair was white now. Her features still beautiful, yet slightly drained after all these years. She looked up at the man, but before she had time to understand the situation, a flash of green light had illuminated the room.

Narcissa crumpled to the floor. The goblet clanged across the room, spilling its contents, as it rolled to a stop at the man's feet. Lucius screamed in silence behind his mouth coverings. The man kicked the goblet away.

"How unfortunate," the man said sadly before breaking into insane laughter.

He walked to Narcissa's limp form and turned her over with his foot. A look of surprise still lingered on her face. The man laughed again as he turned back to face Lucius, his wand pointed at his heart.

"I can't believe how easy it's been. Barely any security and a hopeless wife bringing you an evening fire whiskey. Anyone else I should know about Lucius? Or is it really this simple," he said tauntingly.

Lucius looked at him with a mixed expression of surprise and hatred. A few seconds passed, before the defeated man shook his head. The man laughed, turning to the study window. With a swipe of his wand, the glass shattered and exploded over the lawn. The man raised his left sleeve and turned to Lucius.

"Look familiar? Yes, of course it does. Those of you, who once beckoned to its call, have nothing but a scar, but it will run black once more… after tonight. The Dark Lord will rise again, but only if you help me, Lucius. There is something I require, beneath your mansion. When the ministry searched your cellars, they found nothing. Yet we both know there is something here, the Dark Lord left behind, in his desperation," the man finished, his red eyes fixed on Lucius.

"Tell me how to get to it, or I'll force it out of you."

Lucius could not remove his gaze from the freakish man before him. How could it be possible? He knew what he was after, but did not explain how this man looked so much like the Dark Lord himself. Malfoy sat in silence, but to no avail. The man tortured him with the Cruciatus curse, laughing all the while, and eventually gathered the information he required.

In his triumph, the man strode to the window he had destroyed and pointed his wand at the sky.

"Nineteen long years it's been, Lucius, since last this spell was used. It is time, however, to instill fear in the hearts of the people, and soon the Dark Lord shall return to power. _MORSMORDE!"_

A flash of light, and soon the house was filled with the sounds of wizards apparating. The hooded people began to ransack the house, taking the valuables, destroying what was left. The great skull above the house glowed in the night, a great serpent protruding from its open jaw.

"How lucky your son has been. Had he been here, it would have been all too perfect. The entire Malfoy line destroyed in a single night. How unfortunate that he chose to depart from this majestic life, and start his own family," the man said. "I heard say you two are now estranged. Oh, how the wizarding community enjoys gossip."

He turned from the window, the light making him nothing more than a sillouette.

"First you lose your son. Tonight, your wife," he gestured to Narcissa's lifeless form. "It seems you have nothing left to live for."

Lucius looked into the man's eyes, almost pleadingly. He knew what was to come. He struggled against his bindings, but could not pry himself loose.

"You've been more use to the Dark Lord tonight, than you ever were before. For that, I must thank you. We'll take what is necessary, and we'll leave the remains for the aurors to find."

He shot the killing curse quickly and efficiently, leaving Malfoy bound to his study chair. Slowly he made his way to the dark cellars of the mansion, focused on nothing but what he was after. He reached a dead end after walking through the maze of corridors. A simple spell and the wall opened, revealing a circular room, lined with dark objects.

In the center of the room, upon a glass stand, was a wooden chest. It was locked, but not any spell could open it. It was really powerful dark magic. No matter, however, the Dark Lord had spoken to him. He told him how to reverse the spell. Soon, the chest sprung open, and the man's eyes shined with triumph.

He reached inside and removed the item inside. Almost immediately, he heard a voice, very lightly in the back of his mind. It was indeed what he had come for.

Within minutes, the house was empty; its inhabitants dead. The Dark Mark still burned in the sky when the aurors arrived.


End file.
